Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep
by Darkness Falling 13
Summary: Fred's death had cause much grief within the Weasley family. Molly and George find it hard to recover so Fred sends them signs from beyond the grave telling them to keep smiling and most of all to keep living. TWO-SHOT
1. George

George stood in front of the mirror. Fred stared back at him, he couldn't even look at himself anymore without seeing Fred, His fist punched through the mirror shattering it, the pain didn't hurt him, his hand bled out, and he left it without bothering to heal it. Perhaps he would bleed to death? Perhaps he could join his brother? He went downstairs to his joke shop, the shelves in disarray, puking pastels and canary creams scattered about the floor. He stood on a few on his way to the checkout, he sat on the table looking around at the empire he and his twin had built. He had no twin, therefore he had no empire. He had no life.

One year ago, George was happy, his life was perfect apart from the obvious death eater threat but he and Fred were optimistic, the bad guys always lost, they were right in a sense but the part they forgot was that some of the good guys died along the way. One year ago Fred and George were making money, making jokes together and smiling. One year ago George was not alone, he wasn't suicidal and he certainly wasn't frowning. Everyone was so used to seeing George smile that it was an oddity to see tears stream down his face. He still remembered how he had cried that day, how his mother had held him as though he was an infant.

He cried again, his life would never be the same, his life was as well as over, his shop was going bust, his heart was hurting and his body wanted to give up. George drowned his sorrows in a bottle of firewhiskey, he had become somewhat of an alcoholic since his brother's death, being drunk made him forget his sorrows for a minute, he could live carefree for just a second. He imagined never having to care, never having to cry, he imagined death. He hated himself for it but for weeks he had yelled at god "If you had to take one of my brothers, why Fred?" He had wished his other brothers dead before his Fred. He was not George without Fred, he was like a jigsaw puzzle without a few pieces, and he would never be complete.

He walked out of his shop, not bothering to lock the door; he had already been robbed off everything he had. His brother and his life. His feet bashed against the cold cobbled ground he passed Ollivander, the old man gave him a weary smile, unsure of whether to speak to George. George was glad he never, his tear stained cheeks were red and raw from crying so much, his eyes puffed up and red, his ginger hair lying lank down his back. For the first time in George's live he wasn't clean shaven, a beard of stubble had gathered on his chin making him look like a homeless man. He didn't care for what he looked like, He looked like Fred, he didn't want to look like Fred.

George stumbled forward to a lake, blue in colour, not quite see through but he could make out a few rocks underneath. He walked in one foot in front of the other he was now swimming amongst the liquid. His clothes heavy in the water, he swam a little the feeling relaxing, he drew his wand and prepared to cast a charm that would make his body heavier, so that he would drown. He was stopped however about ten dozen pristinely white feathers were showering down upon George. He swam on his back and stared up at the clouds, he could almost make out a face with a big smile. Was this a sign? He wondered to himself was this Fred telling him not to kill himself? He sighed loudly, he wanted to die, he had nothing to live for. One thing George could not do was go against his brothers wishes, and it appeared that the white feathers and the smiley faced cloud was a sign that Fred wanted him to go on. He dried his clothes of using a simple charm and headed back home. He passed Ollivander and smiled at him

"Hey Garrick," He greeted

"Hello George," Ollivander spoke back,

George continued on and entered his shop, he shut the door behind him and turned the sign around to say open. He began fixing the shelves, putting boxes back up. He cleaned the place up it didn't take much. Under a large box he found a note, addressed to him.

Dear George,

If you're reading this something happened to me, so here is a poem enclosed that I thought was pretty moving, so I mean give it a read. Now Georgie, I need you to keep smiling, I need you to keep working and I need you to keep cracking those jokes because there's only one of us now, which means you're going to have to be telling double the amount of jokes, you're going to have to work twice as hard and most of all you'll have to smile doubly as hard. So basically, I love you man, my brother, my twin, but I don't want you to give your life up just because I died, I know it'll be hard but you'll get through it, I know you will, because we're the Weasley twins George, we're always smiling even when we're not smiling inside. So here's that muggle poem, show mum it, it's really just here to help her but I reckon you'll like it too, from Fred

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

A tear dripped down George's cheek as he put the letter down, he liked the poem, it was assuring, his brother never left him, he'd always be there watching, from wherever he was just because he died didn't mean he didn't live on. George would never be a complete jigsaw there would always be missing a piece, but he could still enjoy the picture, only a little piece was missing.

**Please Review! Thanks for reading! The poem is called "do not stand at my grave and weep" it's by Mary Elizabeth Frye. I did not write the poem, nor did I write Harry Potter. **


	2. Molly

Molly had lost her child, her Fred, her beautiful little boy, she would never see him smile again, she would never hear him laugh and she would never hug him again. Going into the battle it was amazing how optimistic she had been, nobody would hurt her family, nobody could. She had been delusional, for Fred died. She had been inconsolable for weeks, Arthur, grieving to had try to comfort her he had gotten a yell instead of a cuddle. A mother's love was strong, and a Mother's pain was great. The one person who was in more pain than Molly was George, but even he had found some closure, according to George, Fred had touched him, sending him signs from the afterlife; Fred sent Molly no such signs, except from a poem, that had helped her little in recovering from his loss.

Perhaps it was Molly's fault, Perhaps it was her that had killed her little boy, if she had protected him more, maybe he'd still be alive. Molly put her head in her hands, unable to feel, unable to move. Tears streamed down her cheeks, nothing would make her better. Her second eldest Charlie saw his mother's distress, he sat next to her and pulled her into a hug with his big arms, Molly hugged someone for the first time in weeks,

"If I knew Fred, he'd tell you to get up of your arse and smile," Charlie chuckled

"I can't smile..." Molly sighed

"You can mum, because I did, Bill did, Dad did, Ron did, Ginny did, Percy did and even George did," Charlie stood up and clapped his mums back. Molly breathed loudly, how could everyone else recover faster than her, how had everyone else come to terms with it, how could they? She went up to bed and fell asleep amongst the sheets, her pillow pressed firmly against her cheek. It was stained with tears. She dreamt that night

Dream- Molly was in a field surrounded my flowers, the moon was high in the sky and the stars shimmered down on her. In the distance she saw a figure, her initial reaction was that it was George, but then she noticed that the twin had both ears, she ran forward into Fred's arms,

"Mum," He smiled

"Are you really here?" Molly asked, "Is it really you?"

"Nope, you're dreaming," He chuckled "Someone looks awful,"

"Of course I look awful I just lost a son,"

"Still, you need to smile, I want you to be happy, just think about what you still have, percy, bill, Charlie, Ron, George, Ginny, Dad, Harry, Hermione-"

"I want you Fred, I want all of you," Molly stroked her son's cheeks "George has found a new lease of life, Ron's helping out with the joke-shops, why can't I be like that?"

"Because Mum George listened to me when I told you to him to be happy," Fred looked down at her "I'm telling you now, Be happy,"

"You sent him white feathers, you made a smiley face in the clouds, you wrote a letter... you didn't do that for me?"

"George was just about to commit suicide mum, and the letter well I thought that he'd have a harder time dealing with it, I guess I was wrong, I did give you that poem..."

"It was just words, and how can you ever thing that I wouldn't have as hard a time at dealing with it, Your my son, I am your mother that is a bond strongest in the word, a child and it's mother, I love you so much Fred I'd rather die before you,"

"I know that," Fred agreed, "You need to wake-up mum, Dad needs you,"

Sure enough Molly woke, and Arthur was shaking her by the shoulders,

"Molly, you have to see this," Arthur smiled, Molly sat up and ventured down the stairs, to the garden, all the Weasley's were gathered from George to Fleur. On the grass the words keep smiling were pressed down, Molly initially was sceptical,

"Which one of you did this!" She yelled, everyone shook there heads in wonder, Molly's keen eye spotted footprints leading somewhere, she followed them George at her back, she came to a large rose bush. She always loved Roses, but they always died under her care, but this bush was large and overgrown, very much alive. George put his arm around his mother as she wept, falling to her knees in pure shock, Fred had not forgotten her. Miracles did happen, and Molly had saw a miracle, but Fred was a miracle everything about him, his smile, his voice, his laugh, his humour. Molly came to realise how her whole family were miracles, Bill mature and sensible, Charlie strong yet caring, Ron kind and funny, Ginny vivacious and smart, Percy successful and logical, George broken but recovering. And now she Molly was recovering, just like George she was broken, and would never be fixed but perhaps she stood a chance now at living without her son. If George could live without his twin surely she could cope with living without her son.


End file.
